


pick apart the pieces you left

by tomlinbdsm



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Crying, Cuddling, Fluff, Friendship, Kissing, M/M, OT5, Past Mental Illness, Sad, anyway, i dunno tbh, ish i guess, it just made me sad, mention of depression, relationships, theres a lot of affection, theres lots of crying too, this is my first fic i have no idea what to tag it as
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 12:04:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4828508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomlinbdsm/pseuds/tomlinbdsm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>prior to zayns departure, he has to figure out a way to break it to all of the boys, but he makes the horrible decision to tell them one on one, at separate times. every time, his heart breaks a little more, and hes tired of all these goddamn tears.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pick apart the pieces you left

**Author's Note:**

> heey, guys. i dont really know why i decided to write this, but i did. i think im gonna post it in chapters, each chapter being a different boy and then maybe an epilogue on what zayn does after hes left.. maybe. this made me cry a lot, so im sorry in advance, but please dont hate me. ALSO, please note that this is my first fic, and i would really appreciate the feedback. im not the best at writing, so it would definitely help! thank youu

Harry

 

He’s a chicken, Zayn thinks to himself. He’s been trying all day to work up the damn courage to just- pick up the phone. He’s still in bed; he really doesn’t want to get up at all. Getting up means he would have to deal with people, and people meant Harry. He’s made a schedule for himself, and today was the day that Zayn was going to break the news to the boy. Harry had been quite a bit suspicious at the fact that he’d been having so many problems with management, so many private meetings and so many hushed phone calls. He was nervous, to say the least. He just wasn’t happy anymore- as much as he loved the boys he called brothers. The things he had to do each day, it wasn’t the same as it used to be when it first started out. He heavily relied on cigarettes and marijuana to make it through the day now, and was often grouchy when he couldn’t fit a smoke break into a long period of time. But, this is day one out of four, he thinks. He isn’t excited at all, he knows that much.

The traffic seems to be endless on the way to Harry’s, but thankfully, the driver lets him light up in the backseat. He enjoys the fact that some drivers are a lot more laid back- honestly, who cares if their car stinks of weed. It’s pretty much harmless, anyway. As soon as they pull up to the familiar home, Zayn can feel his heart sink to his stomach. He isn’t ready, and all confidence he had in his actions is now gone. He wants to go back home and curl up in bed, just break it to everyone all at once in a group chat just to get it over and done with. But he can’t do that to his boys, he can’t hurt them like that. He’s better than that, but it takes a bit of reassurance to make sure of that. So with that, Zayn takes a deep breath, gathering his composure before climbing out of the vehicle. He has to do this.

Harry answers the door with a beaming smile and open arms, giving Zayn a warm hug and a wet kiss on the cheek before inviting him in. Zayn steps on the heels of his shoes to get them off- one of H’s many rules. Harry can tell something is up, because the corners of his lips are turned down in a frown and there’s the little wrinkle between his brows. He can sense Zayn is off, and Zayn just wishes his hands would stop fucking shaking for two minutes so he could reassure Harry that everything is okay- that he’s alright, but he wouldn’t necessarily be telling the truth. And in all honesty, he’s a shit liar to begin with. 

“Let’s sit down.” Zayn speaks before he even realizes he opened his mouth, but Harry doesn’t say anything. He just silently complies and sits on the edge of the couch, and Zayn can’t take his eyes off the stain from Louis’ birthday where Niall puked on the armrest, casually laughed it off and took another drink from the beer pong table, despite the complaints. Harry’s the one that breaks the silence of course, breaking Zayn out of his trance, his eyes casting up to the curly haired boy. The way he’s looking at him, his eyes filled with worry, his cheeks flushed and his brow wrinkled, Zayn seriously considers chickening out, and he wants Liam or Louis to tell him instead. He hates hurting Harry, it breaks his heart, and he really doesn’t know if he can live with the guilt. “Is everything okay, babe?” Harry asks, and Zayn’s chest aches at his tone.

“I’m- I really don’t know, H. I can’t give you an answer. Things aren’t exactly okay, and I have a lot to tell you. So, uhm, I want to tell you what’s going on and why it’s happening before you get upset.” Zayn manages to splutter with minimal fuck-ups and stumbling, and he gets a bit of confidence back. Harry just nods understandingly, as always, and gestures for Zayn to go on with a small shrug. He takes in a deep breath and runs a hand through his hair and blinks down at his lap- he doesn’t think he can look Harry in the eye right now. “Well, this has been a reoccurring thought, and I’ve come to a decision. I’m really, quite unhappy with how my life is right now, H. You and all the other boys know that. This isn’t my scene; it isn’t what I pictured myself doing when I was younger. I’m overwhelmed.

“And I wanted to lay down the facts before I kind of got to the main idea. You’re the first one out of the boys I’m telling, and I’m really hoping that you aren’t that upset. Fuck- I hate hurting you, babe. I’m so sorry,” Zayn cuts himself off so he can clear his throat, and he really doesn’t want to cry. He can feel it coming, his throat is closing up on him, and he’s itching in his skin. He really needs a smoke, he thinks. Harry’s eyes are flickering over his features, completely lost and confused, searching for some sort of answer to what the hell is going on and what the boy is trying to say. He takes a few moments to breathe, counts to thirty in his head to regulate his heart beat, and thinks of a proper way to break it to him. But there isn’t really a proper way to wording something like this; you have to say it as it is.

“I- Harry… I’m leaving the band.” Zayn regrets saying the words almost as soon as they’re out of his mouth, because Harry’s expression hits him hard, square in the stomach. He feels like he can’t breathe, he really needs some air. “You, what-“Harry shakes his head and he can feel a hand on his wrist, squeezing with a tremendous amount of pressure and a slight tug. “Please, tell me you aren’t being serious.” Harry pleads and Zayn can’t force himself to shift his gaze, because he can see out of the corner of his eye that Harry’s about to cry, and Zayn doesn’t want to see the stark contrast between red and green, or the splotchy cheeks. He doesn’t want to see or hear any of it, doesn’t want to deal with it. He wants to go home.

A sound comes from Harry’s throat and the pressure on his wrist is absent, and he can see the boy shaking slightly in the corner of his eye. Zayn really regrets looking up at Harry, because his hands are covering his mouth and he’s crying, curled up as small as can be. Zayn’s eyes sting and his nails bite into the flesh of his palms- this is his fault, he feels selfish and ridiculous for making such a decision and hurting his boy like this. He can’t believe he was ever that stupid. Zayn shakes his head softly and scoots closer to Harry, a hand coming to smooth his mop of curls aside, gently guiding his head to rest on his chest. Zayn doesn’t realize he’s speaking until Harry whines pitifully in return, his face burrowing further into his chest.

“I’m sorry, H, I really am,” he crooned and sighed, his nose pressed to the crown of the boys head. He smells like green apples and faint aftershave- one he recognizes as Louis’, and his heart aches. He can’t seem to get out any words other than ‘I’m sorry,’ and he can’t stop the tears that slip down his cheeks, either. His eyes flutter shut and he loses track of time, the warmth of Harry against his chest and the soft sniffs sounding from him, it lulls him away to somewhere else he can’t describe. He loses himself in his thoughts, only to be snapped back when Harry gently taps at his chest.

“I get why, you know. I… I understand, it’s just- I don’t want to picture this life without you, Zayn. You’re my brother, you’re my rock. You’re my best friend, and…” Harry trails off only to rub at his eyes with the heels of his palms, shaking his head once again. “I feel like my heart is already missing a piece, even though you aren’t gone yet.” Harry’s tone is soft and timid, and he looks like he wasn’t expecting himself to actually say that aloud. Zayn pretends not to notice the blush that arises on Harry’s splotchy cheeks, just strokes his hair and presses soft kisses to the skin of his forehead. “I’ll always be here for you, H, I promise. I’ll always be with you, no matter where you go. No matter the time zone, if it’s three am and you need me, I’ll be a text or phone call away.” That seems to settle Harry a bit, because he nods, curling closer to the boy and taking in a deep breath. Zayn isn’t looking forward to the three more to go.


End file.
